


Abeyance

by marvelouskate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beauxbatons Student Harry Potter, Fluff, Gen, Harry Potter is a Black, M/M, More tags to be added, Romance, Smart Harry, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelouskate/pseuds/marvelouskate
Summary: Amanda Cole is a smart woman, who recognises an opportunity when she sees it. It is only in her best interest to help one Tom Riddle achieve his full potential, especially with all the rewards his soulmark hints at.Tom Riddle has always known he is special and his soulmark all but confirms he is destined to be great. And he will be, if only to make sure he is worthy of the one who has marked him so thoroughly.Hadrian Black has known for years who his soulmate is. It doesn't make facing him (or his excuse of a father) any easier.orA Soulmate AU with an Amanda Cole who is a bit kinder, a Tom Riddle who can feel, and a stubborn-as-ever Harry Potter (Black).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! While this is far from my first attempt at fanfiction, it has been some time. I don't have a beta, so if you spot any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know! I will try to be consistent in posting this story and my goal is to post at least one chapter per week, but you know how capricious inspiration can be. Hope you'll enjoy.  
> (Edit: Forgot to add, but of course, everything belongs to J.K Rowling!)

Amanda Cole was a woman of calculation. She had to be, being responsible for so many young lives in those hard times.

Could they afford taking in another orphan? Should she use the meagre budget of the orphanage to buy new uniforms? (The sponsors liked the visual representations of their money being used, after all.) Should she put it aside for emergencies? If one of her chargers fell sick, should she just… let them be? On and on, Amanda’s life was a constant balance between risk and reward. She fancied herself somewhat of an expert in that area.

So when a woman stumbled into the orphanage one cold December night, all of Amanda’s instincts screamed at her to deny her entrance. The strange woman was heavily pregnant, yes, but as long as she still breathed and the child was still in her belly, she was, technically, not Amanda’s problem.

But then, the smell of sharp winter air broke through and she knew that she had something unique on her hands – an opportunity. So she played ever the hospitable host, calling for some of the younger girls to grab clean washcloths and hot water.

Later, after the labour has come to an end, Amanda would wonder at the unusual determination that filled her entire body in those late night hours.

For now, her hands moved without pause – almost methodically. They opened the woman’s dress and smoothed the matted hair from a sweaty forehead. Amanda couldn’t help but notice the stranger’s soulmark.  ‘ _Quite an ugly thing, aren’t you?’_

True, the woman was no great beauty, but she still didn’t envy her for having the reminder written on her skin. (Her own mark – a faded thing – itched almost mockingly. ‘ _We’ll have great fun, you and I’._ ) Still, when all was said and done, when the young mother held her son for the first time, it was clear she regarded the father of the child with great affection.

Amanda briefly wondered if the father was the same person who spoke the mindlessly cruel words visible on the other woman’s skin, but then quickly chided herself. Besides being heavily frowned upon, marrying anyone else but your soulmate was illegal. In addition, she couldn’t imagine anyone willingly lying with the woman in front of her, lest they were married. She was ripped from her thoughts by a quiet and hoarse voice coming from the bed.

‘His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, after his father and my father.’ Having nothing to say, Amanda nodded. It was, she supposed, a fine name. ‘Marvolo’ sounded exotic and like a name worthy of a lord or a royal. Did she, by chance, indebt a daughter of a wealthy family to her?

All her schemes and plans of using such a connection stuttered to a stop when the unknown woman (Mrs. Riddle, she corrected) lost her consciousness. Hastily taking the new-born away, she barked orders to her temporary assistants. The night wore on, but it was already too late. Mrs. Riddle was dead.

Days later, as Amanda watched the boys of the orphanage dig yet another unmarked grave she knew she had a decision to make. She could simply let the infant go. It would not be unheard of – a stressful and early birth led to a weak child, after all. It happened all the time and no one would blame her.

However, as she took another deep breath, the same sharp and cold scent from before assaulted her senses. And, just like that, she knew she would care for this child (at least as well as she did for any of the others). As Amanda ascended the steps to the nursery she could only ponder at what rewards this boy could bring. Perhaps his father would show up, elated at his son’s wellbeing? He’d have to be rich, of course. And he’d be eternally grateful to Amanda and Wool’s, without doubt. She smirked to herself.

She did know how to tilt the balance in her favour.

 


	2. Monachopsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monachopsis  
> n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, you guys make me wanna write. I've got a rare day off, so you get a chapter, yay! It was a struggle to write and fit in everything I wanted without making it a really detailed character study (that might come later) but still underlining the subtle differences that ultimately motivated Mrs Cole's and Tom's decisions. I love your feedback, so please just let me know: was the text winding and off-topic and over-the-top? It's a writing problem I've had for years so I'm trying to be more concise. Anyway, happy reading!  
> Everything belongs to J.K Rowling and the word and its definition were taken from https://thoughtcatalog.com/brianna-wiest/2016/02/40-words-for-emotions-youve-felt-but-couldnt-explain/  
> which is a nifty little list that I'll definitely use again.

For all that soulmarks were widely considered a blessing, mankind was still puzzled over their origin and general rules. Soulmarks existed already in the earliest recorded history (although scholars suspected they have been more of a pictogram and have later on evolved to suit the ever-changing human language) but even now, there were only a few undisputable facts about them.

  1. They were always, without fault, your soulmate’s first words to you.
  2. They never disappeared completely – they faded slightly with your soulmate’s death, but they were still visible and legible.
  3. They would always appear before you met your soulmate.



An addendum has been made in regards to the last statement in the recent years. Although the soulmark would appear, without fault, before the fated meeting, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for its timing. It has been theorised that its appearance was prompted by the birth of the younger half, but it has been disproved. It was, after all, easily checked as the date of the appearance of one’s soulmark was diligently noted and recorded in the government files.

In the past decade multiple studies have been conducted to determine the influence of one’s soulmark on their mental and physical development. Majority of the studies has been inconclusive. Really, there were so many different soulmarks and first meetings that forming any general statements was bound to be a failure from the beginning.

Tom Marvolo Riddle closed the heavy tome with a dull thud. His studies, while interesting, have not brought him any closer to the answers he was seeking – when exactly will he meet his soulmate? He didn’t need some pompous scholar to tell him how his mark has affected his life. He still remembered the day it had appeared and changed everything, exactly two years ago.

He had been eight at the time and was just beginning to understand the expectations Mrs Cole held for him. Really, he thought with a scowl, how foolish she had been. Back then, she still put stock in his father’s supposed wealth and with every day he didn’t miraculously appear, she grew bitterer towards Tom. As though it was his fault that the man was too stupid to seek him out. However, he thought with satisfaction, it all changed the day his soulmark has finally bloomed on his skin. Coincidentally, it was also the last time anyone dared to mention Tom’s father.

That fateful summer day, Tom and Mrs Cole had another one of their ‘falling outs’. They didn’t happen often, as Tom had always been just a bit too calm, too still. It suited Mrs Cole, because it meant he didn’t require as much coddling as the other children.

When he had started craving knowledge, taking to his letters and numbers faster than any of his peers, she had been quick to put his talents to good use. (Wool’s budget was truly awful, Tom had to admit).

As such, she had been willing to overlook many of his…incidents.  The young boy has realized early on that as much as Mrs Cole put up a front of a good Christian woman, she truly only worshipped at the altar of Opportunity.

(He hated they had that in common).

Still, for all the benefits their business-like arrangement had, there were some things Mrs Cole couldn’t let slide.

On The Only Day That Mattered, (as Tom has come to refer to it), he was reading one of the few books that were in Wool’s possession. The boy was seated underneath an apple tree in the yard, avoiding the other children. He’d have preferred to stay inside but Mrs Cole has declared she didn’t trust him enough to leave him unsupervised. As Wool’s had hardly any caretakers to spare, Tom had been shuffled out ( _herded like sheep and oh, it burned_) and ordered to stay within the sight of one of the assistants.

It wasn’t his fault that Billy Stubbs was completely incapable of recognizing his betters and had chosen that exact moment to try to intimidate Tom. The specifics of his goading escaped Tom’s notice, distracted as he was by the slight itching on his ribcage. He didn’t pay it any mind at first, trying to focus completely on his book.

Reaching up to scratch at his chest, he vaguely registered when Stubbs’ whining tone took on an aggressive note, but it was too late.

When a dirty hand snagged the collar of Tom’s shirt, his first reaction was to look for one of the caretakers. He didn’t need them to defend himself -on the contrary, he’d rather they be absent, lest they report one of his ‘incidents’ to Mrs Cole.

Just as he caught sight of Miss Tapleton, she turned around, leading a crying orphan back into the building.

_So much for the adult supervision,_ Tom thought wryly. Spotting the matching grins on the faces of Stubbs’ gang, the boy realized the distraction must have been planned on their part. It was surprisingly clever, considering he knew for a fact that the majority of them still struggled with reading and writing.

No matter, this just made things easier for him.

The young boy was broken out of his musings when Stubbs jerked the hand that was still wrapped around his shirt.

‘Bet you’re not so cheeky now, huh?’

A smirk made its way on Tom’s face but he remained silent. It was so funny, seeing Stubbs lose his patience. His insults always struck harder when the other wound himself up. True to his prediction, Billy’s face turned an ugly shade of red and spittle flew out of his mouth as he continued his barrage of threats.

‘You think you’re so much better than us, with your fancy books and numbers?’ Here, the boy’s gaze landed on the title of the book lying innocently on the ground.

_The Soulmate Science_ was the one book in the whole orphanage everyone was aware of to some degree as it provided reassurance and evidence that even orphans would not be alone forever.

An ugly sneer marred the bully’s face.

 ‘Well, you’re a freak and not even your soulmate will want you once we’re through!’ An almost pleased expression made its way on his face as he continued.’ Your soulmate must be as much of a freak if they’re stuck with you!’  

The day that had started as warm and stuffy was suddenly cold and unwelcoming. Even the children further away felt the change and they huddled together, clueless as to why.

_How dare he._ Tom felt an icy mess of _something_ begin in the pit of his stomach and travel up all the way to his chest, which now burned fiercely instead of itching like it had the whole afternoon. He didn’t care what those worms spewed about him – they were so far below his notice.

( _But he never forgot, would not, could not. Their time would come.)_

He briefly considered grabbing the offending wrist in front of his face and just _snapping_ but managed to restrain himself.  It would take way more than this for him to willingly touch a dirty pig like Stubbs. Instead, he focused on the feeling of ice in his veins and directed it towards the other boy. For all he usually tried to rein it in to avoid Mrs Cole’s lectures, he had no such compunctions now. He just had the overwhelming need to defend the pristine reputation of his future soulmate (whoever they might turn out to be).

However, while his willpower was made of iron and steel, his body still had its limits. Thankfully, the brief outburst of the strange icy feeling was just enough to light the collar of his shirt and Billy’s hand on fire. It did not seem to be an ordinary fire either – the flames burned the deepest black with the shades of violet and they did not affect Tom in the least. Indeed, at first it seemed like they didn’t affect Billy either. It was only after black smudges started appearing on the tips of the other boy’s fingers that he yelled out in pain. His hand, curiously devoid of blisters, was covered in black, bruise-like marks instead. Tom detachedly thought he’d read about something like this – a frost bite, it was called.

Billy’s screeching has instantly caught the attention of the other caretaker, Miss Lakeland. She hurried to their side, looking alarmed and throwing confused glances at them. Tom stood there, fascinated with Billy’s fingers which seemed to be turning blacker and blacker with every second that passed. By the time Miss Lakeland got to them, Stubbs was on the ground, his eyes wide and fearful. His lackeys surrounded him, as though anything they did could stop Tom.

‘What is going on?’ asked Miss Lakeland. Tom had to give her credit – she was one of the few who did not immediately throw obscenities and vulgar insults at him.

‘It’s that freak, Miss L!’ shouted one of the boys, as if on cue.

‘Yeah, it’s all on him! Billy just wanted to have a look at the book, but that freak wouldn’t let him!’

Those accusations and lies were nothing he wasn’t used to, but it still stung, knowing he wouldn’t even be allowed to as much as utter a single sentence in his defence. Some feeling he could not identify burned low in his stomach.

If none of them could see how _special_ , how _powerful_ he was even when the evidence was right in front of them, how could he expect his soulmate to? He felt no remorse for his actions, as Stubbs deserved every second of pain for insulting his other half. He only felt anger at how powerless he was, for how would he protect his soulmate if he couldn’t even protect himself?

Those thoughts were accompanied by the sweet, sweet sounds of Billy’s sobbing and the whining of his peers. By now, surely, one of the other orphans has gone to fetch Mrs Cole. Miss Tapleton was silent, not indicating whether she believed the boys’ claims or not. Quietly, she turned to Stubbs and carefully attempted to straighten out his blackened fingers.

Somehow, Tom thought her efforts were futile.

And then, just as he was starting to think they’d stay there forever, in the dusty yard with the sun slowly setting, a voice he knew all too well spoke.

‘Silence.’ Mrs Cole has arrived, Miss Tapleton at her side, looking frazzled and anxious. Instantly, all the orphans parted to let them through.  Mrs Cole’s small, black eyes took in everything and everyone until finally they rested on Tom, unblinking.

‘I see.’ She spoke slowly, never once breaking eye contact.

Tom has never hated her as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he knew she loathed whenever he did something ‘freakish’, but they had an _agreement_ , did they not?

‘Stubbs, Riddle, Paver and Johnson, all follow me. Miss Tapleton, Miss Lakeland, please stay behind to look after the children.’  Without uttering another word, she turned around and headed back inside, presumably to her office.

Tom started moving, his legs taking one step after another, seemingly without his input. The itching feeling has returned and it seemed to double in intensity, only serving to distract him further. Behind him, he could hear snickers and whispers.

The short trip seemed to be endless and to drag on all at the same time. Before he knew it, he stood in Mrs Cole’s office, like he had many times before.

_Is that it, then?_ He thought. _Am I about to face the streets or worse yet, the priests?_

Tom was no stranger to the church officials and he wasn’t afraid of the hard life London had to offer. But he still had so many things to do and he wanted to be _great_ , greater than anyone has ever been before and how could he do that if he had no roof over his head and no books and no numbers to learn? His breathing sped up, but he fought hard to keep it under control, for he’d rather die than give the other boys the satisfaction of knowing how much their little ploy has affected him.

Finally, all of them were standing in front of Mrs Cole’s desk. She eyed them silently and sighed.

‘Paver, close the door.’ As soon as the boy did as instructed, she opened one of the many drawers, and took out what appeared to be some sort of cream.

‘Stubbs, come closer.’

Billy, no longer crying but still cradling his injured hand, neared the desk. He seemed torn between being wary of the strict caretaker and exultant he was able to get Tom in trouble and once again prove how ‘freakish’ he was.

As soon as he was close enough, however, Mrs Cole’s hand shot out and snagged the injured limb. Ignoring his muffled squeals and protests, she forcefully opened the clenched fist. Making a vague humming sound, she handed him the cream and let him go.

‘Go to the kitchen and get yourself some lukewarm water. Soak your hand until it stops stinging and then apply the cream. Come back here in the evening so I can look at it again and then we’ll decide if it’s worth dragging you to see the doctor.’  She turned to the other boys and made a shooing motion with her hands.

‘The two of you better make sure he does as I said, unless you want him to lose his fingers. And don’t get into any more trouble today, am I clear?’

The boys seemed ready to argue – would she really kick them out of her office before they could hear what she had in store for the freak? But as soon as she mentioned the possibility of Billy losing his fingers, they decided it wasn’t worth it. They’d find out soon enough what Riddle’s punishment was.

With one last round of whispered jeers and insults, the boys left. Tom refused to admit he felt somehow more at ease knowing they wouldn’t directly witness his latest humiliation.

However, it seemed like Mrs Cole had other plans.

‘Sit.’

Stunned, he sat.

And stared.

In all his years at the orphanage, she has never allowed him to sit in her presence. Rather than put him at ease, this unexpected change in behaviour unnerved him.

The caretaker took her time, slowly sliding out one of the slim cigarettes from her stash under a stack of bibles. She lit the white stick and inhaled.

Once, twice.

If this was some sort of a ploy to make Tom crack and admit to his wrongdoings, she could not have chosen a more futile method. The boy was determined to outlast the stars themselves, if it meant his defence of his future soulmate would not be in vain.

‘I think it’s time we had ourselves an honest chat, Tom.’ Her voice was flat, devoid of even the usual undercurrent of wariness.  ‘I’m not in the habit of lying to myself, especially when all the proof is right in front of me.’ She gave him a sharp look, almost as if she could see into the centre of him.

‘We both know that whatever happened to Billy’s hand, you were the one who caused it.’

Tom’s lips thinned, but he resolutely remained silent. In his experience, nothing he said could change her opinion, if she even listened to him in the first place.

‘But I’m not particularly concerned with that.’

Did the outburst of the icy power earlier drain him? Was it all a convoluted hallucination, in which Mrs Cole suddenly exclaimed they were the best of friends? He watched her take another drag of the cigarette as she continued.

‘I have never doubted there is only one God, high in the heavens. I would be inclined to believe you were the furthest thing from one of His children, being able to do the things you do. However…’ She broke off, looking to be in deep thought. One of her hands reached to rub at her thigh, almost absent-mindedly. ‘His will and His… gifts are not always easily understood.’

By the time she finished, Tom’s eyebrows have migrated to the very top of his forehead. Was she really saying his powers were some sort of a gift, when she had always reacted with disgust and fear? He mutely watched her stub the cigarette out.

‘That being said, I do not believe it makes you special.’

He _knew_ it! All this, just to underline how freakish she thought he was, how abnormal.

‘You have no control over what you do. I have never seen you use your gift in a way that would benefit anyone, even yourself. Ultimately, your actions are flashy and utterly inexplicable. Do you understand the potential consequences? Can you even imagine what would happen to this place if word got out I had no control over a mere seven-year-old?’

She took a deep breath and continued, looking as though she was walking to her own death.

‘I cannot help you understand the gift you possess and I have no means to subdue you.’

A small smile crept up onto his face. She was basically handing him all her vulnerabilities on a silver platter! He ignored the jab at his lack of self-control; he knew he’d get there eventually.

Mrs Cole responded with a smirk of her own.

‘Nonetheless, I will not treat you any differently.’ She paused, sneering. ‘Did you really think it would be that simple, child? If I ever regarded you as a real threat, you’d be cold and starving on the streets the very day you set the table on fire for the first time.’

Tom winced at the memory, but Mrs Cole barrelled on before he could interject.

‘The reason why I’ve decided to take a leap of faith and keep you here has nothing to do with your gift.’

Here, she stopped, as though waiting for him to finally weigh in on the conversation. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction but curiosity burned through him, bright and unrelenting. It might be his only chance to get a peek at what she really thought of him and he could not deny the value of such insight.

‘Please, do enlighten me. Was it your inner kindness?’ His voice wasn’t quite as sarcastic as he wanted it to be, but no matter.

‘Yes, partially.’ She said, her tone dry and grating. ‘You see, I don’t particularly enjoy putting in time and effort in fruitless endeavours. At first, I thought your familial connections might make up for your actions. When it became clear no one was going to claim you, I did consider handing you over to the Church.’

Tom knew she didn’t mean he’d make an excellent choir boy.

‘However, I couldn’t deny that your work and your school results were miles above everyone else’s. And this is what made me keep you.’

He had to admit he was disappointed. He already knew he was superior to all the other orphans. Was he supposed to thank Mrs Cole for stating the obvious?

‘This is something I can help with.’

Tom couldn’t help but laugh. She wanted to have an honest chat?

That was just fine by him. He’d give her honesty.

‘Isn’t that grand? You’ve finally found someone you could help!’ He gave a bitter laugh and shook his head. ‘What a noble goal as well – helping an orphan who is too young to understand the evil this world has to offer.’ There was something gathering, slowly filling his veins and culminating in his chest.

‘Let me make something abundantly clear – I do not need your help. I was just fine with our agreement in which I ignored you and you ignored me, in exchange for my assistance with your budget issues.’  Before he could continue and wind himself up even more, she interrupted.

‘And what will you do, when you are no longer useful to me? I could easily hire an accountant – it will be an unnecessary expense but at least I’ll know he won’t injure the children under my care.’

Tom had no response to that. He supposed life after orphanage was nothing more than a vague dream at this point – him, in a position of power with his lovely soulmate at his side.

‘Regardless of what you might think, I take pride in running this institution. If you still won’t believe I only have your well-being in mind, then ask yourself this: will you ever be able to meet your soulmate if you’re homeless and penniless?’ With that, she gestured to his chest, where the ripped collar of his shirt revealed some curling black letters.

Letters that weren’t there this morning.

Hand shaking, he looked down and ripped his shirt open the rest of the way. Stumbling back, he ran to the small mirror on the wall.

The handwriting was messy, as though rushed. But the words…. Oh, the words themselves were so much more than he could have ever hoped for. A fierce burn in his eyes and a sudden inability to speak were a testament to his shock and overwhelming gratitude. If those were the first words his soulmate would ever say to him, how would it be to hear something similar every day onwards?

At that moment he knew he’d do _anything_ just to ensure he’d hear the words sooner rather than later, even if it meant forgiving Mrs Cole for her past transgressions and accepting her help. Taking a deep breath and attempting to pull his shirt closed ( _the words were his, his precious treasure to protect and cherish)_ , he faced the woman once more.

‘I believe we have ourselves a deal.’


End file.
